An Eternity I Walked
by Isis Lied
Summary: Buried in the sands of time, he slept. Until one day the hourglass cracked open and his secrets poured out like grains of sand. Ancestor!Kaname-centric.


An Eternity I Walked

Summary: Buried in the sands of time, he slept. Until one day the hourglass cracked open and his secrets poured out like grains of sand. Ancestor!Kaname-centric.

A/N: I've never written a fanfic in first-person so I do apologize if it seems clunky and weird :P Feedback on characterization, style, etc. is much appreciated as usual. Also, since this is my take on Kaname's past (since Hino only went about skin-deep with the flashbacks) I do realize that this story could be classified as an AU.

Warning: There's enough angst/tragedy in here to make Romeo and Juliet look like a children's book. You have been warned.

Quote: With Slander For a Blade by Dirt Poor Robins

Disclaimer: I do not own VK.

* * *

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"Can you condemn another man's _sin_ without adding to it?"

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I cannot recall my birth. Some say we purebloods rose from the sands themselves after the _End_, burrowing from our crypts to swallow the world. Others say we are the spirits of demons that animated the corpses of children and adults, burdened with a preternatural hunger. And some even say we are born of natural birth, and only in our older years does our true nature show.

I cannot say if any of these conjectures are correct, but I fear we may have come from something worse. I fear we came from Death itself, to devour the survivors of the _End_. And that we are purposed only to cause sorrow and destruction in our wake.

...It is a _tragic_ existence indeed.

* * *

I do remember, however, the first human that I ever killed with my bloodlust. Like a newborn baby, I knew nothing of my thirst or my fangs or how they would affect other people. I would just attack, thinking only of sating my thirst.

I listened as the human's heart thumped wildly in his chest, pressing against his ribcage as my fangs dug deeper into his neck. I continued to drink and drink, even after I couldn't hear his heartbeat. Once I was rid of my blood haze I crumpled to the ground. I cried out, shaking the corpse. After that incident I controlled my feedings, left the person alive after I had my fill.

In truth, it was much more merciful to kill them while they were in your arms, where they wouldn't meet Death alone. I did not know I was condemning hundreds to a painful death at the hands of their loved ones.

Those who did not succumb to the poison laden in my fangs spent months, possibly years going through the change. When they finally became vampires and attacked their own families they did not know themselves. Their conscience, their experiences, their memories, everything that had made them human had all faded away as the thirst set in.

This is about the time vampire hunters were born, clumsy humans who became mercenaries of sorts to clean up the ruin purebloods left in their wake.

I was the one to first call turned humans Level-E's. Named after the apocalypse humans fittingly called _End_, I thought their rampage would end the human race for good. Instead, it showed mankind's vitality as they persevered against their monsters. Eventually, there were more humans than vampires left on the earth.

I too helped with the human's cause. I spent a long time hunting these monsters, thinking that somehow it would rid my hands of the blood of all those I had killed.

Funny, really, since all I was truly doing was washing my bloodied hands in more blood.

But, I am getting ahead of myself. There is still more to my story then these mistakes.

* * *

If I had a father or mother I do not remember them. My earliest memories are of a farm somewhere in the east. I must have still had the physical appearance of a child at that time.

I remember waking up on a pile of hay to the sounds of whispers. I opened my eyes and immediately the voiced were hushed. My eyes were of aged wine, even then. I have never been able to hide my true nature due to these eyes. These deplorable, hunger-driven eyes.

Then, the screams began. I turned to my side and saw the bloodied corpses of chickens, feathers slick with crimson. I touched my face and felt the crimson that had dripped from my lips to my chin.

"Monster!" The family yelled. A man with salt-pepper hair threatened me with a pitchfork, calling me a demon.

I was still clumsy with my powers then and instead of simply bending the pitchfork backwards I accidentally caused both the man and the tool to go flying backwards. He hit the wooden beam hard and did not stir even when his family went to shake him. They cried.

I disappeared soon after.

* * *

It was many years that I walked. I spent much time in the desert after that incident, honing my powers and skill. Eventually, my own curse caused me to seek out civilization.

I found a small village near the edge of a life-giving stream. I kept my face hidden, especially my eyes by keeping my head down and keeping my hood up. A kind, elderly couple (who, luckily, were very poor in sight) took me in. I slept in the basement, away from the harsh rays of the sun.

It was the first time I could ever recall myself being happy. In return for manual labor (which I thankfully did under the light of the moon) I was allowed a place to sleep and food.

But, the thirst still remained. I remember going to the stream to hunt for small animals that had snuck by the water for a drink. This time I was smarter, dumping the carcasses of rabbits and deer into the river, allowing them to be deposited elsewhere. I did, however, still need human blood at times, and would occasionally hunt human evildoers. And so my life continued like that for many years, in peace.

One day, the couple realized they had never asked me my name. I told them the truth: that I had none.

The woman gave me the name of the village, Kaname. The elderly man thought I was a god, meant to bring the village into prosperity. Despite the many years I had lived in secret he noticed I had not aged.

It was my first mistake to tell him what I truly was. My second mistake was not erasing his memory afterwards. He quickly told his wife of my confession. She still treated me the same, nodding whenever I would pass her. She still knitted me blankets on the front porch, rocking in her little rocking chair during the day. She still made me homemade sweets, offering a plateful of cookies or pie whenever I was done with my work. The man, however, had grown weary of my presence.

I used to hear them fighting during the day, when they thought I was long asleep. He said I was using them and that eventually I would turn on them and the whole village, devouring everyone. She disagreed, saying that I was a poor, unlucky man, burdened with a curse I did not deserve. She said I reminded her of their son who had been killed many years ago. He rebuked her, convinced that she had been possessed by demons.

It was a few days later that I woke to the scent of freshly spilled blood.

I rose from the basement to see the glassy brown eyes of the elderly woman. She had a knife sticking out of her neck. Crimson seeped through the floorboards, staining the wood in an unforgiving red. Despite my pain I could not tear my eyes away from the rivulets of blood. And I felt utterly ashamed as the damnable hunger returned, uncaring of my own personal feelings, only wanting to feel the crimson against its tongue. I shuddered at my own demons before I turned my gaze to the woman's face.

It was the first time I can remember crying. It was such a foreign feeling. I had never cried for any of my victims, but I had loved the woman like a mother. As the cold tears dripped down my face I heard angry screams from outside the house.

They stormed inside, pitchforks, torches, and swords all pointed towards me.

"See, I told you, he is nothing but a monster! He killed my wife!"

They circled me. Instinctively, I held to the corpse, as if I was still somehow protecting her. She weighed nothing, reminding me of the famine that had struck the village. Yet, she had still spent all her extra money to purchase sugar and dough to make me sweets...

My eyes flashed crimson and I bared my fangs. In minutes the village was decimated, everything left in ash. I used their torches to burn away the village and the bodies. I had left no one alive, not even the children and women. I had destroyed the place of my birth, in a sense. My namesake, gone from the map...

After my rage had ended I buried the elderly woman near the stream. I took two branches and fastened a makeshift cross. It was all I could do for her.

I told myself it would be the last time I became attached to _anyone_.

* * *

I traversed the desert in a sorrowful haze. I walked without a purpose, animated only by a heart that refused to stop beating. Many years passed. So many, that the villages and gentle hamlets I once knew had grown starkly in size. There were now towns and cities with populations larger than a few thousand. Regardless, I stuck to the villages in the hopes of remaining anonymous and unseen.

I knew now that it was impossible to stay in one place too long, lest I tempt fate yet again and cause a river of blood at my feet. I followed this new rule of staying at a village for no more than three days and everything seemed well and good.

Until one day I heard of a missing child. I had just stepped into the old tavern, intent on finding a bed to sleep in and perhaps a few mice to feed on, when a man's conversation caught my attention.

"Children have been going missing in neighboring towns, or so I heard. They said it's the work of one of those purebloods. The bounties supposed to be over two-thousand pieces of gold."

Now, the money held little interest to me. It was the news of a being called a pureblood that truly caught my attention. I knew immediately that the man must have been talking about another one of my kind.

In truth, a sliver of hope had fettered itself in my heart. I thought that if I could only convince the pureblood to forgo his murderous ways that I would finally have a companion in this dreadful eternity.

So after a quick chat with the man, I set off to find this vampire. For many months I tracked him, hearing bits and pieces of folkloric stories from villagers until I cornered him in an abandoned hamlet not far from where I had first heard of him.

He did not welcome me, as I had expected. The children were all locked up in the cells of what once was the village jail. They looked emaciated, nearing starvation. Then, I saw that there was simply ash in some jail cells.

I tried my best to reason with the vampire. I told him how I lived all these years and that if he came with me I would teach him how to feed without killing.

He laughed in my face, telling me that my compassion had made me weak. He attacked and I responded accordingly. Sometime during the fight I found myself at his throat, my fangs buried in his neck. He died in my arms, shattering into crystals.

I dropped off all the living children in the nearest hamlet before setting my sights to the horizon. I did not wish to stay and hear the children recount my tale of rescue because I knew it would turn the villagers against me.

I tried to leave the village alone, but there was a single orphan in the group whose parents were killed by the pureblood before he was kidnapped.

He was a silent child, scarred by the horrors he had witnessed with the crazed vampire. I never once heard him speak to neither me nor anyone else. He spoke through his actions instead, such as when he would cower behind my leg and refuse to go with the villagers. He had bright red hair and hazel eyes. His skin was fair, with freckles dotting most of his face. He couldn't have been older than ten years old.

For some inexplicable reason I felt that I could not leave him there. I allowed the child to travel with me.

In truth, his presence was a welcomed respite from the loneliness that had begun to fester in my heart. He followed me with the naivety only a child could have. We walked in companionable silence for the most part, his hand curled around my coat. He did not ask for much, he too seemed content with just my company and wished for nothing in return. I began to see him as a son.

For the first time in my long life I had a purpose: to keep him safe.

It was then that I had to start staying in villages for longer periods of time as he could not walk in the same aimlessness that I had. He was human and needed food and water more often then I needed blood. Every stop was an adventure for him and it brought a smile to my face.

He quickly adjusted to each village we crossed, garnering favor with the village folk and making friends. I left him at the town in the hands of the village elders to sneak off and feed. I would return the next night to check on him. I think he knew what I was doing, but he would greet me with a large smile and a hug regardless. I felt loved for the first time in centuries.

It was a truly happy time. But, like all the happiness I had ever felt, it too shattered in my hands.

We had stopped in a village for a fortnight. During this time people in the town began to whisper. Everyone there was very superstitious. The village priest had called me a vampire the moment I stepped into town, but I ignored him. The boy, whom I had named Haru, was feeling ill and needed bed rest.

I sat by his bedside as he slept in the village inn, watching his gentle heart beat in a steady rhythm. I was reminded then of his fragility. Of his humanity. The idea of turning him had always been in the back of my mind. But, he was still too young and I did not want to curse him to an eternity of suffering. I knew he would have agreed if I had asked this of him.

Regardless, it was too soon. If he were to be turned it would be many years later, when he could either choose a peaceful life in one of the villages that dotted the desert or to continue to walk by my side. In the end, it would be his choice.

Just as I had finally organized my thoughts a mob descended upon our room. Haru woke up and immediately tried to defend me. The villagers would hear nothing of it, saying that I was using mind control.

He was too close to me. I couldn't use my powers without worrying about harming the child. So I allowed the mob to tie my hands with rope and lead me outside. I told Haru to stay in the room, no matter what.

They led me to a large pyre. I knew then that they had the intent of burning me at the stake. Now that Haru was out of the way, I could release my full power. I spent most of my strength to make the rioting villagers fall asleep. I then wiped the memories of all of them one by one. It was a tiring process and by the time I was done it was nearly morning.

Exhausted, I turned back to the inn. As soon as I opened the door I could smell blood. My thoughts immediately traveled to Haru and to my utter horror, I found him lying in a pool of his own blood.

A villager from the original mob must have stayed with Haru and attacked him some time during the night. He had fought against death for hours, just to see me one final time. I ran to him, picking the boy up and into my arms. He gave a weak smile, hazel eyes fighting the urge to flutter close. It was the first time I had ever heard him speak.

"I'm sorry that I c-couldn't be anything more than a burden to you, Kaname. B-but thank you, for taking care of me after my parents died. _I love you_." His voice was quiet, nearly inaudible, but I hung to every word.

I shushed him, cradling the broken child in my arms. "Quiet, Haru. Conserve your strength. I will heal you and everything will be fine. I won't ever leave you again."

I brought my lips to the wound at his chest. A violet glow erupted against his skin. But, I had used up much of my strength against the villagers and the glow quickly faded. I was unable to close the wound.

"Haru, I won't do this without your consent. Please, tell me that I can turn you into a vampire."

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out. Tears were now trailing down his cheeks as he shook his head no.

"Why? There's still time, I know I can save you!" I was nearly hysterical, mahogany eyes wide with pain and the fear of losing him forever.

With the last bit of strength he had he tilted his head to the side, exposing the column of his neck. He then closed his eyes. "I d-don't want to die in vain. At least this way you will always have a piece of me with you. Please, Kaname."

His heartbeat had begun to slow to a dull drum and with tears clouding my eyes I fulfilled his final wish. I saw flashes of our short time together and felt a painful warmth. He had truly loved me and saw me as his father. I drank and drank until his little heart finally stopped.

I carried him to the outskirts of town and buried him under the large oak tree he had been playing in not three days before. I was unable to move from his grave for three days.

* * *

I spent a century mourning his death. I became a hermit, hulled in forgotten towns and buildings. I read old books and acquired knowledge of a plethora of subjects. But, my thoughts would always return to the boy whom I loved like a son. No amount of information or distractions could help me move on.

I learned to use needles to get the blood I needed. I went from town to town until finally settling in one that I believe I could hide in. Unfortunately, the villagers had noticed the markings on their wrists from the needles and coupled with my seemingly forever youthful appearance, the town immediately suspected me. I was driven out again. So I went back to wandering. It seemed as if I had walked for an eternity.

It was when I was shifting through the wreckage of an abandoned library that I met her. A pureblood like myself.

She had long, blonde hair that reached to her waist and cerulean eyes. She had easily overpowered me, her fingers wrapped around my throat. I closed my eyes, waiting patiently for the death I had always wanted.

It never came. She pulled me up by the lapels of my coat, a soft, almost feline smile on her face.

"What is your name?"

"I am Kaname." I said simply, eyes cast to the rotting floorboards.

If she heard me she made no attempt to show it. Instead, she walked over to a bookcase and pulled out a large tome, dusting off the cover. The pages were empty and void of ink. She handed the book to me. It is the same one I am writing in now.

"I assume you've heard of the vampire hunters. They are looking for a source of power to fight our growing numbers. Many have done horrible experiments on vampires and have come to a startling conclusion. They need the most powerful creation in the world: the heart of a pureblood. The only problem is that this vampire has to be willing. You are the first pureblood who I have attacked that hasn't fought against me. Would you like to fulfill this role and become the human's source of power?"

* * *

We traveled together for many years. We searched to perfect the magic needed to create the ultimate anti-vampire weapons. I never meant to grow close with that woman, as I knew my days were numbered, but soon, I almost came to regret my decision of becoming the hunter's weapon. I had finally found someone I could possibly spend an eternity with and I was now going to throw away my heart and forfeit whatever life we could have had together.

Fate had always been a _cruel_ mistress.

One day which seemed the same as countless others she told me to go into town and check the library there for information. I obeyed, taking her horse and riding it into town.

When I returned a few hours later, she was gone. I knew immediately where she went. I traveled to the vampire hunter's headquarters, but it was too late. I saw that the hunters had managed to preserve her body, laid out on a metal gurney in the corner of the room. Her heart was already in the furnace, bringing forth anti-vampire weapons. I collapsed in front of the furnace, debating on whether or not to pull her heart out of the furnace. The hunters stood with their weapons drawn.

She spoke to me from the furnace in a gentle whisper, as if she was aware of my conflicted thoughts. "I'm sorry, Kaname, for betraying you. I just couldn't let you die. With your knowledge perhaps you could end the war between vampires and humans. It may not be in this century, but I believe that one day you will have the power to bridge the gap between humans and vampires. Just know that I did love you, Kaname."

I think I genuinely loved her too (but, what do monsters know of love?).

I was beyond broken at that point. I buried myself in an underground crypt, all motivation for living gone. It was a sleep I planned to never wake from. Too many lives I had seen ended, too much death and sorrow and tears. I had grown tired of _pain_.

I can still remember the scent of the earth, warm and inviting with the promise of a peaceful _forever_. I pushed the coffin lid closed and welcomed my death.

In my sleep I dreamed of a world where I was human and had the chance at an ordinary life. I dreamed of sunlight and a family and of aging and finally growing old. At the end of my dream I saw a beautiful butterfly, colored in silver and violet as well as a warm, inviting light. It was foreign to me that there could ever be a light that did not pain my vampire eyes.

The dream ended when the butterfly perched itself on my finger.

When I opened my eyes centuries later I did so with the hope that my wish had been granted. Instead, I woke with a thirst that had laid dormant for over three centuries—

* * *

The brunette woman abruptly shut the age-worn book, tears dripping down her flushed cheeks and onto the dusty cover. She had found her answer to her lover's past and it was more tragic than she could ever have imagined. Her heart constricted painfully in her chest.

The one that had looked at her with those sad, gentle eyes when she was human had been suffering silently for so long...

It was _unfair_.

She rose from the chair, pushing the book back where she had found it (hidden behind two ancient tomes inside the Kuran manor library). It was then that Yuuki promised herself that one day she would give her beloved the life he so dearly deserved.

_A life as a human._

* * *

A

A/N: if it's not obvious, the blonde, blue-eyed woman is supposed to be the 'Hooded Woman' from the manga. And is it bad that I actually cried writing this T-T Poor Kaname, he seems to be a character that I love to torture for some reason.

Oh, and Haru can mean a lot of things in Japanese, but for this story it simply means 'sunlight.'

Anyway, if you enjoyed the story please let me know by dropping a review if you get the chance! Thanks a bunch :3

-Isis


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